


Perfectly Horrifying

by Madame_Marian



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: But Does Anyone in Drrr!! Really, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Female Orihara Izaya, Genderbending, Genderswap, Izaya Has No Chill Ever, One Shot Collection, Pregnancy, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24103375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Marian/pseuds/Madame_Marian
Summary: In which Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima are the most terrifying, yet somehow perfectly fitting couple in Ikebukuro. One-shots, fem!Izaya
Relationships: Heiwajima Shizuo & Orihara Izaya, Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya, Kishitani Shinra/Celty Sturluson
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

"Izaya Orihara?"

"Yeah. She's a ton of bad news, but she mostly hangs out in Shinjuku anyway, so you probably won't ever see her. Still, if you do, Shizuo Heiwajima won't be far off."

"Why's that?" Mikado cocked in his head in a puppy-like way that made Masaomi's anxiety levels spike through the roof. His friend was way too innocent for Ikebukuro. He answered honestly.

"Because Shizuo Heiwajima and Izaya Orihara are the most terrifying couple in Ikebukuro."

* * *

It wasn't often that Izaya felt compelled to directly, physically cause a situation. Sure, she had her fingers in just about every interesting occurrence in Ikebukuro at some level or another, but that was always pretty indirectly. Kind of. Still, she couldn't help it. Something about this Ryuugamine kid was just begging to be bullied.

Masaomi was just looking at her with so much thinly veiled hatred, and the Ryuugamine kid was just blushing so preciously at being called out on his desire to save his female classmate. It was irresistible. Like a lock of hair dangled within reach of a grabby baby, or her beloved Shizu-chan with free time and a new pack of cigs. All she needed to do to spin the situation into further disaster was... push.

So she did.

Shizu-chan would be so disappointed in her.

She smirked.

But not surprised.

"Bullying is lame," she announced, lamely, but with great confidence. "Pathetic, really."

"Oh butt out you old hag, what are you, like, 40?" She chuckled. What walking stereotypes. And so completely lacking in self-awareness. She was kind of impressed, really.

"Listen," she drawled lightly, "It's not my problem if you ladies get pummeled to death and die! I could knock your teeth down your throat, or you could bag on my age when I'm actually just 23, and you're the one with wrinkles. That much tanning is bad for your skin, ya know," she winked, like she was sharing a nice little tip between girls. "I still don't care. You're in a class so far beneath me it doesn't matter."

"Huh?"

"Human beings are such weak things. But," she rubbed her chin in faux thoughtfulness. "Cat fights aren't really my thing." She flicked one finger up in the air like a brilliant idea had just come to her. There was a sound of metal whizzing through the air, and the girl's purse dropped to the floor, straps cut. She was pretty sure no one present should have even seen her move. "Well, I guess the next best thing I could do is take your precious cell-phone..." she held up the barbie pink device to make sure everyone present got a good look at it in its final moments. "And smash it."

* * *

"It's been a while, Masaomi," Izaya observed, flicking out her fingers to observe the crimson nails she had painted to match her eyes. She was going to have to hunt that thug down and give him a good scare if dealing with him had chipped her manicure, but, thankfully, everything appeared in order. She nearly let out a sigh of relief. She really was not interested enough in that human to warrant the time, but her appearance was important to her. What would her darling Shizu-chan think of her with a chipped nail?

Internally, she scoffed. He probably wouldn't even notice, the ingrate.

"Yeah, it has," the boy attempted to respond casually. To most of the world, it probably worked, too, but his tone was clipped, and Izaya wasn't fooled.

"That's a Raira uniform, isn't it? Good job on getting in." Like it was hard.

"Right, thanks. I didn't expect to see you, Izaya. You're not normally in Ikebukuro."

With a hum of indifference, the woman stretched with a feline kind of grace, and for reasons known only to her, she smirked. Yes, some of it had to be the way her dear online friend's eyes flickered wider at the mention of her name. Such an action always brought her joy, since it meant they had heard things about her- scary things. Things, thus, that she approved of. But even more so, she smirked because every time someone in this glorious city commented on the rarity of her presence she was gifted with that brief thrill of remembering that she was doing something she was explicitly not supposed to do. Because as much as she bathed in all things shady and manipulative, she was rarely told upfront not to do something and her darling Shizu-chan had one simple request for her: stay out of Ikebukuro. Oh, how she loved breaking that request.

Kida Masaomi looked between them in a brief panic and introduced them in a rush, as though she was vindictive enough to harm him if he didn't explain quickly enough. Oh, she loved that too!

Standing, she gave the newcomer a soft bow, pale hands clasped before her tickled by the ends of long, ebony hair falling past her slim shoulders. "I'm Izaya Orihara, and it's an absolute pleasure to meet you." She purred with a well-timed bat of false lashes even more ebony than her hair. Then, throwing her default seductress attitude out the window, she allowed herself a giggle. "Your name really does sound like an air conditioner."

"Oh...yeah." How eloquent.

"So, why are you here in Ikebukuro anyhow?" Kida asked with just enough of a step forward to create the smallest of physical barriers between her and his delicate friend. Really, did he think she made that much of a habit of stabbing people in the middle of the street? Who weren't Shizu-chan?

"I'm here to see someone..." She made uncomfortably direct eye-contact with the human air-conditioner, just long enough to bring a rosy tint to hid cheeks. "But I already met him."

She was so satisfied with her ~~bullying~~ information gathering for the day, she was tempted to push her luck and talk longer. Still, her back _was_ a little sore... maybe just a _little_ more, just to treat herself, she decided. But before she could tease him any further, there was a loud crash that rattled the ground they stood on and left her in a sea of darkness as the force of the object passing swept her hair over her eyes.

"IZAYAAAAAAAAA!"

"Oh no, this is bad."

"Heh, you're telling me, eh kid?" She laughed a bit at the convenience store dumpster conveniently blocking the alleyway exit before them. Her once elegant hair was piled in a tangled knot atop her head, the force of the wind as the trashcan had passed acting not unlike a vengeful hair-destroying tornado, and it had taken the zipper from the bottom corner of her beloved and fluffy-edged jacket up with it, lost in the sea of darkness that was her hair.

"Izaya. Dear."

"Yes," She nodded. It was best to be simple with a, despite her best efforts, untamed beast such as her lover. "That is me."

"Did I not tell you.." He swiped off his blue-tinted glasses and clipped them into his vest. "NEVER to come to Ikebukuro again?"

"Oh, my beloved Shizu-chan," she sighed. "This was much easier back when you worked the west entrance."

"As if, Flea. I'd know your slimy scent anywhere. And don't call me that in front of people! My name is Shizuo!" This time Air-conditioner-kun released an audible gasp that couldn't help but stir up a touch of jealously in the brunette. How come her wit never got as strong a reaction as her monster's brawn? It wasn't fair!

"Oh my, monster dearest, are you still mad I had that first ultrasound without you?"

"No- wait, yes I am, actually! But aside from that I won't have our daughter growing up calling me Oto-chan or anything else ridiculous because of you, you hear me!"

"Oh, I never thought of that," she put a finger to soft lips in consideration.

"IZAYA."

Her smirk rang just a little more false.

"Yes, dear?"

"You're going home. Right now."

She turned her crimson lips into a pout and flipped out her switchblade like it was an everyday annoyance that couldn't be helped. "Now now, let's deal with this as though you're capable of listening to reason, Shizu-chan."

He spit out his cigarette.

"What are the chances, really, of anything happening to me on the way back to our apartment? Much less, specifically bad enough to harm our child?"

The flickers of orange in the ashes were stamped out under the heel of a large black shoe.

"Besides, who'd really be ballsy enough to attack me, of all people, in broad daylight?"

Her words went without any response aside from the blond rolling up the sleeves of his, for now, pristine white shirt. His honeyed eyes bored through her skull, and it was in that moment, that she knew she was not going to be walking back home. With, or without a fight.

"Stay back, you beast!" All it took was one step in her direction, and she was flying down the street as fast as her legs could take her.

"IZAYAAAA!" She sped on with all her might, so caught up escaping she didn't notice the small army of delinquents that had been slowly closing in. Shizuo, equally unaware, chased her straight into the newly formed wall of vengeful thugs, and she felt an added weight, besides the tiny human, drop in her stomach. She wasn't going to be allowed to leave the house for weeks, was she?

"Dear."

"Yes."

"Why."

"...Well, Shizu-chan, I can't predict the exact outcome of every course of action I take-"

There was a ring of snapping wood, and her lover's grip on her shoulders tightened dangerously with the blood running down his face, and the foolish laughter echoing in a ring around them.

"You were aiming for my head just now." The laughter halted. "You know that can kill someone, right? Which means, you were trying to kill me, right? And if that's not enough, you dared to take the risk of attacking me while I'm holding my girlfriend? My pregnant girlfriend? Which means not only were trying to kill me, but you didn't care if my girlfriend got hurt as well. And if you didn't care if my girlfriend got hurt, then you didn't care if my unborn child were to die at your hands!"

There was so little noise the absence of sound had practically concaved into itself and made a vacuum of silence.

"Then," he released his lover at long last and turn to face the man that had just broken a baseball bat over his head. ''You can't complain about anything I do to you!"

As much as she was ever so slightly turned on by her boyfreind's ability to punch someone literally out of their clothes, Izaya and her clever little brain quickly deduced that perhaps her darling Shizuo-chan was right all along, and Ikebukuro was not the safest place in the world for her and her tiny, parasitic stomach human. In fact, she decided, it was probably for the best that she just left. Right now.

And if she went just slow enough for a vending machine to land in her path and her victorious monster to scoop her up and march her back to their apartment in a fit of sexy rage, whose business was it really?

Yes, she really loved breaking Shizu-chan's rules.


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Shizuo laid eyes on Izaya Orihara, he was objectively aware that she was beautiful. Unfortunately for her, he was pissed, and she had a smug look on her face, so he hated her straight away.

"You. You're pissing me off."

"Aaw, really?" She pouted, sauntering over to him. It was an expression that probably would have had most guys groveling at her feet, but Shizuo knew rage more than any other human emotion, lust included. She was a short woman and he was a tall man, but with a bit of a reach, she grabbed his tie, and pulled him towards her playfully, seductively. "Cuz I thought you were pretty cute, big boy."

Now, Shizuo normally had a pretty strong personal moral about not hitting girls, but in the ten seconds he'd known her, something in him had decided. This creature in front of him, it wasn't a woman, for all her dolled up beauty. No. She was... a flea.

Growling, he yanked her wrist away from him, expecting outrage, maybe a slap to the face, only to find the girl, no, the _flea,_ hadn't missed a beat in flipping out a switchblade and ramming it into his chest. For a second, still holding her wrist in the air, he paused. He could honestly say he had never been stunned like this in his entire life. She had stabbed him. This _flea_ , so small she barely reached his chest in height, had _stabbed_ him.

"See?" She said, grinning, brimming with arrogance. "I'm plenty of fun!"

Slowly he released her wrist to pluck the blade from his chest, the wound gushing a waterfall of blood with its absence, and snapped it between his fingers, before crushing beneath his heel.

"Iz. A. YAAAA!" He bellowed, charging at her for the first, but certainly not the last time. She had escaped that day, and nearly every day since, seeding between them one of the greatest rivalries the world, or at least Ikebukuro had ever seen. What he didn't know, or at least failed to consider at the time, was the old adage about love and hate. Because as they say-the line between love and hate, is often all too thin.

* * *

He remembers that night like it was yesterday. It had been years now that they had been rivals, and though she moved out to Shinjuku long ago, she always seemed to spend more than her fair share of time in Ikebukuro. It pissed him off.

And he was more pissed off than usual that night. He had just gotten fired from his latest job, at a fast-food joint, because apparently beating up customers does not fall within the employee code of conduct. Even if they're dickbags.

He was on his way home, on what was probably his third pack of cigarettes for the day, in one of those moods to destroy half the city and rack up a good few hundred thousand in property damage, when he smelt it. It was an expensive perfume, something not too many people in Ikebukuro had, and if they did, certainly not enough of it to wear it as liberally as she did. He would know it anywhere. The smell of flea.

"Izayaaa," he growled, looking around for where the bitch could possibly be hiding. Being the flea that she was, she could be just about anywhere.

"Yes, Shizu-chan?" An all too familiar voice purred, and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of black encased legs hanging from a third-story window ledge. Just like a cat, she let herself slink down to her feet so that she was standing before him, dressed the same as always. Her long black hair was pinned half up, half down, and perfectly done liner framed her scarlet eyes, doing its best to draw in men to their certain dooms. A siren.

Spitting out his cigarette, he drew back into a fighting stance, because over the years he'd learned that if he didn't immediately do so, he had about a 70 percent chance of ending up with her knife burrowed deep into his chest. "I thought I told you to stay the FUCK out of Ikebukuro."

"What?" She pouted, batting her absurdly long and undoubtedly fake lashes as him. "And miss seeing my favorite, handsomest man? Well, maybe not so much a man."

Her lips twisted up at the corners cruelly, knowing full well that she could dig at him just as well with her metaphorical knives as her physical ones. "But a handsome monster does just as well."

Ripping a street sign out from its base and wielding it towards her like a sword, Shizuo screamed. "Izaya, I am not in the FUCKING mood today."

Ducking gracefully below the makeshift weapon, she popped back up with a cheerful grin. "Oh yeah, I heard you lost your job at that shithole, huh? Well, I'm sure it's hard for a monster to function in the human world, so I suppose the fact that you got the job at all is commendable-"

She leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding yet another attack from her favorite plaything. "Who knows how long it'll take you to find something else, huh?"

"At least I do fucking honest work, not that you'd know what that's like, fleabag!" He roared, charging at her with his fists, "weapon" forgotten at the roadside.

Izaya only laughed, shooting off toward the main roads, knowing the more public destruction she could get him to partake in, the more amused she would be. And god, did she love a sexy fit of rage. What could she say? Maybe she was a bit of a masochist, but, then again, she didn't see anything wrong with that.

God she found him sexy. If he had half a brain, she thought, he would see through his rage blinders for ten seconds and realize that for her, this was just a very unique brand of flirting. God, did he think she stabbed just anyone? She wouldn't torment him like this if he wasn't special. What a moron.

Though she'd be lying if she said pissing him off wasn't pretty fun on its own too.

Unfortunately for her, today his rage had been particularly sexy, and she found herself more wrapped up in her thoughts than she would normally allow herself to be while on the run for her life. She knew Ikebukuro's layout like the back of her hand, so she could run on autopilot for the most part, but there were a few variable factors she had to stay alert for, like construction, or-

"cars..." was the only thing she said lying in the middle of the road, the world around her going fuzzy. Above her, she could just make out the face of the man who hit her, some middle-aged businessman, very distressed, and to his left, someone a little more familiar. Her beloved Shizu-chan.

"Iz..aya?"

She smirked one last time, and that was the last thing she heard her before her world faded to black.

Shizuo, on the other hand, was, for the second time in his life, stunned. Izaya- THE Izaya, his rival for over half- a decade had just... gotten hit by a car? That was it? This untouchable, infuriating, luck of the devil fleabag... was gonna go out because of a car? And all with that same, stupid, _smug_ grin on her face.

"Excuse me, excuse me, sir, please, do you know her?"

"Huh?" He felt... dazed.

"This girl, do you know her?" The businessman pleaded.

He looked at his rival, lying there on the ground, and he felt something stir in him. It was some kind of emotion he was sure of that, but it wasn't familiar. He didn't like it, and he didn't trust it, but still... he could leave her here to die. He could walk away, knowing damn well it takes hours for any kind of police of first-aid response to get anywhere in Ikebukuro, and she would die, and he would be rid of her. He should be happy. But instead...

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"She's... she's a- yeah. I know her. I'll make sure she gets somewhere where she'll be taken care of."

His body was moving, but it didn't feel like it was his own, scooping her into his arms bridal style. She had that same stupid smirk on her face, but her hair was a mess, and one of her false lashes had been knocked askew from the fall. He nearly laughed. She really did weigh nothing.

"Oh thank you, _thank you_ , sir, um, since she was at liability I assume you don't need my license number, or anything, because-"

A nerve on his temple twitched.

"You hit her with a car and you're standing here, wasting my time, penny-pinching?" He slammed his fist down onto the roof of the car, bashing in not just the rooftop, but probably the motor inside as well. "I don't have time for this."

Ignoring the man's groveling and apologies, he stalked off, and before he knew it, found himself jogging full speed in the direction of Shinra's house.

* * *

When she came to, the second to last thing she expected was to be draped, naked, across Shinra's couch, with a beet red Shizuo burying his face in his hands, looking for all world like he wanted nothing more than death, and Shinra spouting off confused ramblings in his ear about what, from what she could catch, seemed to be something about... the miracle of love? Or something like that. Probably something about Celty. The last thing she expected was to wake up at all, but she wasn't complaining about that one.

"Was stripping me down to my lingerie really necessary, Shinra, or is this just a ploy to embarrass Shizu-chan as much as humanely possible?" She quipped irritably, attempting to sit up, only to be met with a burst of dizziness like she'd never known.

"You might not wanna be trying that right now," Shinra urged, rushing over to push her gently back down by the shoulders. "And yes, Izaya, as much as seeing Shizuo blush was worth it in and of itself-"

"I am _not_ blushing, Shinra!"

"-I had to see make sure I was aware of any and all injuries. Especially for someone as small as you, it's really a miracle you're in as good of shape as you are, at least from what Shizuo tells me of the accident. Only a concussion and some bruises, really. And for your information, I _was_ just about to get you a hospital gown, we couldn't have my Celty coming in and thinking anything indecent of me you know!"

"Shizuo?" She asked, really just properly registering that he was really here. And not attacking her.

"Yes, it was very romantic," Shinra swooned. "He broke the door down barging into here, carrying you in his arms, begging for me to save you. Nearly as romantic as me and my Celty!"

"...What?" She asked, waiting for him to yell "syke!" and tell her who actually brought her here, but he just continued to ramble about how sweet it was- something about 'rivals turned lovers'. Though to be fair, it's not like it was much likely to be anyone else. Even if someone else did happen upon her, the chances of her being brought to Shinra rather than a typical hospital were extremely slim. Already the gears in her brain were turning, putting together the information and sorting through all the possible implications. Throwing an arm over her face, she found herself laughing. Just a little laugh at first, but it grew, and soon it was echoing off the walls, totally consuming the small apartment.

"And what exactly is so fuckin funny, huh, flea?" Shizuo demanded, knocking his chair back with how forcefully he stood.

"You care!" She accused, nearly rolling off the couch now with the strength of her laughter. "You, Shizuo Heiwajima, you care about me!"

"No I fucking don't!" He defended. She only laughed harder.

"Ya know what, I'm gonna give you two some alone time," Shinra stated, though he wasn't entirely sure either on noticed at this point, and wasted no time in slipping into his room on the opposite side of the apartment. Not that that meant he wasn't gonna eavesdrop, of course.

"Ah, ah, stop making me laugh Shizu-chan, it hurts," she wheezed.

"I save your life and you're still trying to piss me off!" He yelled, flipping the coffee table, though, she noticed pointedly, not towards her.

"Oooh Shizu-chan, you absolute moron," she groaned, laughter finally dying off. Reaching up and taking a good fistful of his shirt, she yanked him down to her level, and in his shock he let her. Lifting her head just enough to whisper in his ear, but not enough to cause herself a second bout of dizziness, she whispered in the most seductive voice she could muster as the victim of a recent car wreck. "I was never kidding when I called you sexy."

His mouth dropped open in something akin to a gape, lit cigarette falling onto her bare chest, burning a light circle in the skin above her breast and she moaned. Gripping his shirt even tighter, she decided to take advantage of his shock and pulled his lips down to meet hers. Initially unresponsive, she slipped her tongue in between his still parted lips, and something in him came to life, kissing her back with equal fervor, climbing awkwardly above her onto the sofa. After making out for what felt like eons, they finally pulled apart when she started to fumble with his shirt buttons.

"Izaya."

"Yeah?" She asked breathlessly, and he thought he'd never seen her look so... not put together, physically or mentally. And even more, he thought, maybe, he... liked it?

"Stop."

That snapped her back to reality. "Why?"

"I'm not having sex with a girl who just got hit by a car, and especially not on my friend's couch."

"Oh." She breathed, as though the thought hadn't occurred to her. "But..." she smiled, and he could see her games starting to run again behind her scarlet eyes- stunning, though he'd never let himself really notice before. Sure, he was vaguely aware of it, but he hadn't really thought it himself. Or if he had, he'd never noticed through all his rage. "What if I hadn't just been hit by a car, and it was a week from now, and we got drinks at that bar near the west gate first?"

He inhaled, knowing for all the world that if he was sane he would say no. What kind of dumbass gets drinks with a woman who's stabbed him at least once a month for the past five, six years? What woman wants to sleep with a guy who's beaten her over the head with a street sign, and thrown vending machines at her? A man that she herself calls a monster? Had the concussion messed with her brain? He ought to ask her what the fuck is wrong with her. But instead, he says, "If that happened... I might."

She smiled her signature smirk, though, for some reason, it didn't piss him off this time. "Then I'll meet you there at eight."

He must be the one with the brain damage, he thought, because he found himself smirking back against all reason. "Eight it is."

* * *

Just because they started having sex, it didn't mean that they'd stopped fighting. To the outside world, they looked much the same as ever, but to them, it was obvious that much of the bite was gone. She still pissed him off, and she still had fun tormenting him, but there was a newfound nuance to their exchanges. Sometimes he thought maybe he loved her.

Even after he lost his job at the bar, apparently throwing the entire bar at a customer was not the appropriate response to having a drink hurled at you, she didn't take the opportunity to mock him for it. It didn't keep her from her usual taunts either, but she didn't take the chance to rub salt in the wound as she would have before. It's times like that, that he wondered if, just maybe, sometimes she thought she loved him too.

Snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray she kept on her bedside table for him (she would _not_ have some barbarian getting ash all over her high-end furniture, she liked to remind him), he looked at his lover, sound asleep on her side of the bed, and wondered that someone so small and angelic-looking could, in reality, be the Izaya that he knew. And, for the moment, he thought- just maybe- that he might like her that way.


	3. Chapter 3

"Shizuo."

Her voice was brief at the other end of the phone, and for a number of reasons, Shizuo was instantly very, very concerned.

"...yeah?"

For one thing, Izaya rarely chose to call him, when she could always come harass him physically instead.

"It's just- it's _just-"_

For another, she was pregnant, which meant his level of concern for her was about 1000% increased by default anyways.

"What is it Izaya, are you alright?"

"I can hardly bear to even say it Shizuo."

And, most importantly of all, Izaya would _never_ answer the phone with his real name.

"Are you in danger? I swear to god, whatever bastard's upset you, I'll-"

"No, Shizuo, it's not that," she dismissed, sounding damn well on the verge of tears.

"Well then what the fuck is it?"

"My- my- my jeans won't zip, Shizuo!" She exclaimed, melting into sobs that made even Tom wince from where he sat across the table.

"Wha-" he felt the characteristic nerve in his temple flaring up, "Why the fuck did you need to call me at work to tell me something stupid like that? Buy a new pair!"

"No, Shizuo, you don't understaaand," she bawled, practically in hysterics at this point. "It's not the pants- it's me! It's my baby bump! Shizuo- Shizuo, I'm fat!"

More sobs.

"Wha- Izaya I saw you literally this morning, you are not _fat._ "

"You're just saying that," ( a sniffle), "because," (more sniffles), "you're my boyfriend, and you have to, but I know it's not true."

"What the fuck do you mean it's not true? Izaya you're a fucking twig, you could gain 40 pounds and it'd still be a stretch to call you _fat_."

"No,' she sobbed, "I'm disgusting. How will you even look at me? You must think I look so repulsive, I can't take it!"

"Izaya, stop being an idiot! I'm at work and I don't have time for this right now." And with that he slammed the flip phone shut, motioning to start picking up the trash from his and Tom's fast-food lunch break.

"Yeesh, what was that about?" His boss asked, looking more than a little apprehensive.

"Just some nonsense about how her jeans won't zip because of the baby bump so now all of a sudden she thinks she's fat. How fuckin stupid, huh?"

"Oh no Shizuo," his boss sighed, exasperated at his friend's lack of basic human skills. "Bad move, buddy."

"Huh? Why's that?"

"So let me get this straight. Your girlfriend, who is pregnant, called you, in distress, because she can't fit into her usual clothes anymore. She thinks she's fat and unattractive, so she starts sobbing. And instead of comforting her, you called her an idiot and hung up."

"Well yeah. And?"

Tom sighed. "Oh, Shizuo. Well, it's too late now. Just be expecting to sleep on the couch tonight, man. Maybe the rest of the week."

Brow twitching, the blond dumped the trash into the can with a little more force than necessary. "I don't get it, and I don't feel like figuring it out right now. She was irritating me, so I hung up. I'm sure she'll be her usual irritating self when I get home tonight."

Tom only shook his head. He would see soon enough. "Whatever you say, man, whatever you say."

* * *

"I'm home," he announced, ducking into the flat that him and Izaya now basically shared. His lease still hadn't quite run out on his place in Ikebukuro yet, but considering that hers was about a thousand times nicer and, most importantly, not in Ikebukuro, he spent more nights there than not.

Usually, Izaya would bound over to greet him like a puppy that'd been left at home all day and was dying for attention, but today, the apartment was... quiet.

"Izaya?" He called, concern starting to take root in his gut. Something here wasn't right. He could feel it. "This isn't funny, Izaya!"

Still no response. Maybe she was on a job?

That was when he noticed the note, lying conspicuously in the middle of the living area, on her nicest paper which she saved for only the most special (ie, troublesome) occasions. The concern he held growing ever louder, he approached the note, which his instinct was to take for some kind of ransom note. Maybe one of Izaya's many enemies had finally decided her information wasn't worth the trouble she brought with it after all? Still, for some reason, Tom's words seemed to be the ones echoing around in his brain. 'Bad move, buddy." He'd said. But... why?

Lifting the note which looked almost comically small in his large hands, it didn't take long for him to register that it was, in fact, his girlfriend's handwriting. The note read:

_Dear Shizuo,_

Well. That was already a bad start. He kept reading:

_I understand that as things currently stand, I, and my body, are repulsive. You don't have to pretend. I understand that surely you must want nothing to do with me. As such, I have decided to go underground until I have safely given birth and returned to my original trim figure. I know this must be hard for you, and know, my beloved Shizu-chan, that this pains me as well, but I cannot bear to face you in this state. Fear not, for you will still see my workings around Ikebukuro, and for each gang war you happen across, know that if you think it may have been my doing, it likely was, and I hope you think of me. All of this will be done remotely, as no one can be trusted to see me in this disgraced state. Never fear, I will take photographs with my cell-phone at the birth so that you feel included, I've thought of everything- as usual!_

_That is if I don't die horrifically in the birthing process. I'm not sure a human has ever cross-bred with a beast such as yourself before and I can only assume the results will be disastrous, but let us hope for the best._

_Signed, your favorite information broker and once lover,_

_Izaya Orihara_

Stunned, was one way to describe his initial reaction to the message left behind by his lover- _not_ former, thank you very much. But that was short-lived- very short-lived. And the emotion to follow it was a rage even he didn't know he was capable of.

"IzayAAAAAA!" He bellowed, all birds within a ten-mile radius scattering with fear. In Ikebukuro, a certain crimson-eyed temptress couldn't contain a shudder.

* * *

"So Shizuo was dismissive when you complained to him of your- and I must say- extremely mild weight gain."

"Yes, and don't lie to me. I'm a blimp."

"No, you're honestly almost concerningly thin for someone at your stage of pregnancy- anyway, not the point right now. So you decided to just... leave him?"

"Yes."

"For 6 months."

"Yes."

"Well," Shinra scratched his chin. "I hate to say it Izaya, since things you've done have literally gotten people killed, but I think this may just be the worst idea you've ever had."

She blinked. "Why?"

Shinra sighed. "God, you two are both so bad at communicating, it's a miracle you haven't actually killed one another yet. Izaya, have you ever considered maybe, just maybe, that Shizuo wasn't lying when he said he didn't think you were fat?"

"And just why would I consider something stupid like that?" She frowned at him.

"Izaya," he allowed himself an exasperated smile, "You're tiny."

"No, I'm not," she protested, tears welling in her eyes, a level of distress Shinra had never seen on his old friend's face. "I've never been above a size two in my life, Shinra, and now I think- I think-" she leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper, as though afraid saying it too loud would make it more true. "I think right now I may be a four."

"Izaya," his expression softened, "I can't let you stay here just because of that. It's not worth Shizuo pounding at my door when he finds out and trust me, he will."

"No, he won't, and yes, you can, you _have_ to because, because, I'll tell the police that Celty lives here if you don't!"

"Frankly, that's the most obvious bluff you've ever tried to pull, Izaya."

"It's not, and I will! I'm pregnant, you don't know what I'm capable of!"

Shinra laughed. "Exactly. You're pregnant, not stupid. Celty is your most valuable transport and you know it. And besides, I'm sure your yakuza clients wouldn't be too happy to hear you've been ratting people out to the police."

She frowned at him, knowing he was right and clearly resenting it. "What if I said... pretty please?" She batted her lashes, which in her distress, were actually real today.

"No."

"Please Shinra? Just for tonight and then I'll get out of your hair, I promise!"

He sighed. "Fine, but tomorrow you and Shizuo need to have a long conversation that I want no part of."

"Yaaay!' She flung her arms in the air triumphantly. "Thank you so much Shinra, I won't forget this!"

"Yeah yeah, just go to the guest room already, it's late and I'm exhausted."

"Of course of course, ta ta!" She waved a farewell, zipping off to the room before he could change his mind. And, well. If he texted Shizuo the second the door was closed, could anyone really blame him?

* * *

She woke to a door being thrown off its hinges.

"IZAYAAAAA!"

Fuck.

As silently as she could, she slipped out of her borrowed futon, still dressed in the loose-fitting black dress she had donned that morning after the whole jean dabocal. Looked like it was time for her to make her exit- that filthy traitor Shinra. She would remember this.

She leaped through the window with perfect timing, just as her monster slammed open the door to her borrowed room.

"COME BACK HERE, FLEABAG!" He roared, leaping after her. Too bad for him- he was fast, but she was faster.

"Don't look at me, beast!" She yelled back, daring not to look over her shoulder.

"AAAHHHH!" He was now roaring incoherently, blind with rage.

Gears turning frantically in her brain, she struggled to think of where else she could possibly hide. It wasn't like she was a woman of many friends. She could still hear her lover roaring in the distance, but the sound was growing faint, which meant she had nearly put enough distance between them to slip away somewhere. But where?

In the distance, she could just make out the sign of a familiar restaurant. "Russia Sushi."

* * *

"Simon!" she yelled, bursting in through the doors.

"Ah, Miss Izaya, you come to provide nourishment for the little one, yes?"

"Nyet, nyet, Simon," she switched to Russian, knowing it tended to gain his favor, "Hide me!"

"'Hide you'? From what, little one? Is there violence on our streets tonight?" He responded, also in Russian.

"There will be if Shizuo finds me!"

"What? I doubt that, little one, considering your state."

"You don't understand Simon, I ran away because I didn't want him to see me like this, and now he's angrier than I've ever seen him! Worse than when someone talks about his brother!"

"My, that is serious," he considered, raising a hand to his chin in thought. "But what do mean by 'like this'? You look much the same as ever to my eyes."

"I'm _fat_ , Simon, can't you see!"

This gave the man pause for a second and she watched as his pale eyes dropped to her stomach, as though to asses the validity of her assertion. Then he burst out laughing.

"Aaahaha, good joke, little one!"

"I'm not kidding!" She huffed, growing ever irritated with everyone dismissing her concerns. Were they _blind?,_ she thought. No, she disagreed with herself, they couldn't be, they were just liars. Liars the lot of them!

"Well, in any case, I think it's best you work this out with your lover yourself, yes?"

"Dammit Simon!" She yelled, whipping around as she heard a violent crash in the distance that could only come from one man. "I'm using your employee exit, just know, I will remember this!"

And so she was off.

* * *

"Why... are you here?"

Mikado Ryugamine was confused, to say the least.

"Mikado Ryugamine, I am mourned to announce that you will have the privilege of my company for the next 6 months."

"...huh?"

"I have chosen to live here, in your hovel, as I hide away from the man I would once call lover until the time of my stomach human's birth." She announced, sweeping past him with all the confidence as though she had been invited in.

"What, you can't do that!" He protested, scrambling after.

"I very well can, and I will."

"Why are you even running from him anyways? it's not like he would ever actually hurt you while you were pregnant."

"You're very well correct, Mikado Ryugamine, but there is not the issue at hand here." She paused, and then gestured theatrically to her stomach as though this motion would explain everything.

"I still don't understand."

"If you can't very well see that I have become fat, Mikado, then I don't know what else to tell you. No one I care for can be trusted to see me in this state. No offense."

"None taken, I guess," he deadpanned. "But you can't stay here for _six months_. I don't mind you staying the night, but after that, you two really need to just sort this out."

"Fine. I will stay here tonight, and flee the country in the mourning. I was so hoping my child could be born here, on Japanese soil, but alas, the harsh Russian turf of my grandmother will have to do-"

"Is that right, Iz. Ay. A?"

Going stiff as a board, she turned slowly, praying that she had spontaneously developed schizophrenia and that voice didn't belong to who she thought it belonged to.

They made eye-contact for a few painful seconds and then, with a squeak, she trampled over Mikado, diving for the small window on the opposite end of the apartment. Slowly, Shizuo approached.

"Why, the FUCK doesn't this window open, Ryugamine!" She yelled, panic growing, as her tugs became increasingly comical in her desperation.

"It's a really old building, the rust build-up on it must be decades old-"

"Ryugamine?" Shizuo asked, not bothering to face the boy.

"Yeah?" He gulped.

"Can you give us a minute?"

"Y-yeah, no problem, I'll just, be going now!" He didn't even take his wallet with him, running away to who knows where.

"Izaya."

"Stay back, beast!" She yelled, whipping out one of her beloved switch-blades. "How did you find me here?"

"Give me some fucking credit, Izaya." He spat out his cigarette. "The Ryugamine kid is your favorite person to bully on this fucking planet."

"Damn," she exhaled. He had her there.

Still stalking over to her, he didn't flinch when she buried her knife in his chest, instead wrapping her up tightly into his arms.

"Izaya?"

"...Yeah?"

"You're beautiful."

"...Huh?"

"I said you're beautiful, dumbass."

"But- but-"

"And you're certainly not fucking _fat_."

"You're just saying that, you're all liars." Her voice was barely audible, her face buried in his chest as it was. He pulled back, gripping her by the shoulders and staring into her eyes.

"Have I ever lied to you, Izaya?"

"...No," she admitted, avoiding his gaze in favor of scuffing at the ground timidly with her feet. A small laugh escaped her. "It's not your style. You're too stupid."

A nerve ticked on his forehead and his grip may have tightened some, but he decided to let the remark slide for now.

"Right," he agreed begrudgingly. "So you'll believe what I'm about to tell you next, right?"

She hesitated. "Right."

"Izaya Orihara, I wouldn't care if you were the size of a fucking blimp, I'm not going anywhere."

Now she finally dared to meet his eyes again, and he realized they were full of tears. "You mean that?"

"I do."

"You won't ever leave me?'

"No."

"Oh." She stated simply, and then giggled, and soon the entire apartment was filled with her hearty laughter. "Well, seems my worries were rather unfounded, huh, Shizu-chan! Silly me!" She waved her hand as though dismissing her prior silliness out of the room. "Guess we ought to go home now then, huh Shizu-chan?"

He took one deep breath, reminding himself that she was pregnant and, if Tom was any indication, it was his actions that set her off in the first place. He allowed himself one vision of throwing her through a wall (lovingly, of course), before bringing himself back to reality. At the end of the day, he had a beautiful girlfriend, and she was having his baby, and that was all that mattered. He smiled. "Yeah, Izaya. Let's go home."


	4. Chapter 4

To the outside world, this day in Ikebukuro started out much like any other. But to Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima, it was nothing even close. It wasn't even close because today, Shizuo had a great task before him. Today, he was going to meet Izaya Orihara's parents.

"Don't you own _any_ other outfits, Shizu-chan?" Izaya barked from the kitchen, rummaging desperately through the cabinets in search of something, anything that wasn't instant.

"Not really!" He called back, attempting with equal fervor to get their daughter to hold still long enough for a diaper change. She stared up at him with the bored, red-brown eyes she had inherited from her mother, thoroughly unimpressed by his efforts.

They were at Izaya's mediocre-est apartment, because Izaya didn't want to raise any suspicions with her father about his eldest daughter who he believed to be a financial advisor, and they had spent most of the day attempting to make it look at least a little lived in. Beating up pillows, throwing a book open on a table or two, anything they could think of.

The Oriharas had been out of the country the entirety of Izaya's pregnancy, and the one time they got in contact with her over the phone, they thought she was lying. So, when they came back from overseas to find that their eldest daughter had given birth over a month ago, they were more than a little embarrassed, and swore they would come over to meet the baby and her boyfriend that very day.

"Can't you just tell them I'm at work?" Shizuo had complained when she first told him.

"Ha! They'd wait all night for you to come back, there's absolutely no way they go without meeting you first." She'd stopped spinning her chair, shooting him a cunning grin. "Why? Afraid my daddy's gonna try and kill you for impregnating his little girl out of wedlock?"

"Pretty much."

"Pft. Believe me, my father may be more "normal" than I am, but he's still a detached bastard. You have to be to start leaving your kids alone for months or years at a time the second the eldest one's old enough to watch the youngest." She had risen then, going to stare down at her daughter, sleeping peacefully in the downstairs crib, which yes, she had one almost every room in the house, and no, she didn't think it was overboard. She cooed down in a baby voice. "That'll never happen to you though, Ayako! Mommy will never be having another baby ever because you weighed ten pounds at birth and your pregnancy was hell! Yes it was! Yes it was!"

"Still, I'm sure it's not exactly the future they had in mind for you."

"Hm, that's true. If only he knew what I actually did for a living, you'd sound fantastic by comparison," she'd announced cheerfully.

"By comparison," Shizuo muttered, shaking free of the unwelcome memory as he finally succeeded in getting a fresh diaper onto his daughter. "Your mom's shit at reassurances, Ayako."

"No swearing in front of the baby!" Izaya called from the kitchen. Damn her seemingly super-human hearing.

"Yeah yeah," he conceded, pinching the bridge of his nose and struggling to mentally prepare for his next task of _dressing_ Ayako, like diapers weren't hard enough. Scooping his daughter into his arms, he reflected briefly on the fact that she weighed absolutely nothing, and how much this horrified him. If she was anything like her mother, she was going to grow up to be a tiny, clever thing who liked to pick on people way bigger than her, both literally and figuratively. Which was an awful combination. He had no idea how he was going to handle two of them.

He'd tried to express these concerns to Izaya a time or two, but she'd always shot him down. Apparently his daughter was huge for a baby, as Izaya loved to bitch about any chance she got, but Shizuo wasn't convinced. From where he was concerned, she was absolutely tiny.

Though, he had to admit, even as an outside observer, Izaya's pregnancy _did_ certainly seem like hell. She had always been unstable in reality, but her cheerful facade was usually well enough in control to fool most people. After about 3 months of pregnancy though, everything had changed. Izaya would cry to him, she'd cry to Shinra, she'd cry to some random schmuck on the street who tried to mug her, she was out of control.

She'd finally had to accept closing her business for the remainder of her pregnancy when, at a routine meeting with Shiki, he'd commented that it was going to be rough having a baby with jobs like her and Shizuo's, and she broke down sobbing on the couch. Shizuo had come in from work, only to see his girlfriend bawling on the couch, wailing incomprehensibly about what an awful person she was, with Shiki awkwardly rubbing an attempt at soothing motions into her back and looking for all the world like he wanted nothing more than to run away or maybe just cease to exist entirely. He'd hastily opened his mouth to explain, clearly concerned that Shizuo would get the wrong idea and think he'd upset her somehow intentionally, but the blond had only held up his hand in a "stop" motion and sighed.

"I know, it's not your fault. This is just how she is now," he'd admitted, presence still totally unrecognized by his lover through all her hysterics.

"She really can't work like that," Shiki advised, awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. "If I'd been anyone else-"

'I know, I know," Shizuo had bemoaned, lighting a cigarette with a little more desperation than he used to. "It'll make her cry all over again, but I'll have a talk with her tonight. I'll restrain her until she gives birth myself if I have to."

"That's..." Shiki had hesitated, his instinct being to protest. He shot the sobbing brunette one more look, and then sighed instead. "Probably for the best, actually."

He shuddered at the memory of her emotional outbursts. And then there was the actual birth itself, but he didn't even wanna think about that right now. The fact that things could _stretch_ like that- he suppressed a shudder. Not the time.

With his free hand, he pulled out the top drawer of the small dresser in the room of this apartment that now functioned as Ayako's nursery. Inside, everything was neatly color-coated with a precision that only Izaya could have the patience for. Not really trusting himself to put together a reasonable outfit without his girlfriend's guidance, he turned to the dresses section and grabbed a small overall dress with a built-in shirt and decided to call that acceptable. Thankfully by this point, Ayako seemed to have decided to take mercy on her struggling father, if just for the moment, and the dress went on with relative ease.

"I'm not even going to _try_ doing anything with your hair." He announced to her, as though she would be disappointed. He'd never understood why people bothered spending so much time trying to cutesy up babies when the babies themselves clearly didn't give a shit. It wasn't until Ayako was born that he realized that in reality, it had nothing to do with baby themselves, but with the fact that they were, like, an interactive dress-up doll. Or at least that was how he was pretty sure Izaya looked at her most of the time.

"Okay," Izaya announced with authority, dashing into the room just before he could leave to come find her. "There is no food in this apartment that my mother would ever approve of, so we need to go to the grocery store, and probably a department store too, because frankly, Shizu-chan, I refuse to introduce my father to my baby daddy, who is a notoriously violent debt collector, whilst he is dressed as a bartender even within the walls of my own home."

"For fuck's sake, flea, stop calling me your fucking 'baby daddy'."

"Hmm," she placed a finger to her lips and tilted her head in mock thought. It was the type of attitude that 5 years ago would've just pissed him off, but now instead he found himself staring at the fullness of her lips, noticing the way she cocked her hip to the side and the way her long hair swayed with the movement. Shit, he thought sometimes, he had it bad. Removing her finger she turned back to him with her signature Cheshire grin, and rebutted him cheerfully. "Nope!"

"Of course." He rolled his eyes. "Ayako going with?"

"Not like that she isn't!" Izaya cried in faux outrage, bringing her fingertips to her chest in horror, as though clutching a nonexistant necklace of pearls. "Look at her hair!"

"I knew it," he muttered under his breath to his daughter, but Izaya didn't pay him any mind, instead flipping open the small jewelry box that sat on the dresser and pulling out a small, elastic headband with a flower attached to the side. With great ceremony, as though crowning a new king, she got her toes to place the decoration upon their daughter from her place in his arms. After just enough seconds of fidgeting to start irritating him, she gave a regal nod of approval, and returned to the balls of her feet.

"There, perfect. So adorable~!"

"Glad you approve," he deadpanned, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. She really was no better than Erika dressing up that Anri girl.

"Now now, no need to sass me Shizu-chan, we have a long day ahead of us!" His girlfriend admonished, turning heel and marching out the door with an air of leadership that suggested he follow if he knows what's good for him. He sighed. It was probably true.

* * *

By the time they got back from the impromptu day of shopping, Shizuo was _not_ in a good mood. First, they missed the first train that would take them anywhere near a grocery store, which meant that they had had to wait 20 minutes for the next one with an increasingly displeased baby. Then, Izaya decided to spend about triple their usual food budget, which yes, he understood that she had more than enough money to but it was about the principle of the thing, dammit- anyways. And _then_ he got shot.

He was more pissed, frankly, than anything.

After the whole train debacle from earlier, they had decided to walk home. This meant that for the first time that day Ayako had been shifted into the arms of her mother, since Izaya wouldn't have been able to carry the amount of groceries they had for 2 feet, much 2 miles. Ayako was not at all pleased with this new arrangement, as Izaya liked to lament that she was already a daddy's girl. This was, she loved to complain, incredibly unfair given the discrepancy in effort between them in the job of bringing her into this world, and from what he'd seen, Shizuo tended to agree. Not that he would ever tell her so.

Since god hated him, it was, at that point, that the sky decided to open up a torrential downpour.

Izaya had huffed with no small amount of outrage at the powers that be for this affront to her person, for once utilizing her lightning-fast reflexes for the power of good, whipping out a portable umbrella from one of the many recesses of her beloved coat. While this left her and Ayako on the lighter side of damp, poor Shizuo was left to fend for himself, and still had to carry groceries.

They were very nearly home, which would have normally offered him some kind of relief, but no. Only more horrors lay ahead of him. Was this the price he paid for not sharing in the hell that Izaya claimed her pregnancy to be? Was this god punishing him for the years of violence he had committed against half of Ikebukuro? For pretending he didn't know why the carpet caught on fire last week when he didn't properly snuff out his cigarette? For stealing Izaya's last piece of otoro at Russia sushi yesterday? Whatever. Fuck god, he decided.

So god shot him.

Or, it seemed like god shot him. It was all a blur really. But timed with the thunder and lightening like it was, Shizuo really couldn't help but feel like he had just been personally struck down by the heavens. He hoped Izaya wouldn't let Shinra dissect his body when he was gone.

"Shizuo!"

He could distantly hear a voice that sounded like his girlfriend calling his name, but the voice actually said his proper name so it must have been something else. Ayako was crying. God, she'd take hours to settle down now. What if she was still upset when Izaya's parents got there? What kind of impression would that make?

He lay there on the sidewalk, in a puddle of rain damn near deep enough to drown him to death if god didn't get him first, and vaguely thought someone was beating on his chest. Groaning, he opened his eyes to the concerned face of his girlfriend kneeling over him. He blinked. Was she crying, or was that the rain? He blinked again. Hm. Definitely crying.

Deciding that he was at the very least not going to die, he sat up and began collecting his spilled groceries. He guessed he probably wasn't totally coherent, and he couldn't really hear anything, but he mostly felt fine. It wasn't until Izaya slapped him hard across the face that all of his senses came rushing back to him, and he looked at the blood dripping out of his chest and onto the can of soup that he was holding. Oh. He looked at Izaya, who was definitely still crying.

"Izaya." He stated simply. "I've been shot."

"Yes I _saw,_ you, you, imbecilic protozoan! You single-celled barbarian!" She screamed through the rain, holding Ayako with a firmness that couldn't have possibly been comfortable for the baby. "Put down the damn soup and cover the gaping bullet wound in your chest! For the love of god, why can't you be sensible for once in your mindless existence!?"

He growled. "Hey, I just got fucking shot, Izaya, the least you could do-"

"Shut up!" She commanded pulling him into a hug with her free harm. He realized, upon contact, that she was trembling. Ah. "Just shut up. _Stupid."_

He wasn't really sure if the last part was directed at him, herself, the situation, or all of the above, but he felt his anger- at her, anyways- melt away. Poor at expressing herself as always.

"So... I guess we're taking a cab to Shinra's?"

She scoffed into his hair. "Yes, of course we're taking a god damn cab to Shinra's."

* * *

After taking the god damn cab to Shinra's, tipping double to make sure the driver didn't ask any questions, and dealing with a very excited Shinra for about 20 minutes while Shizuo had the various bullets extracted from his body, it really occurred to Shizuo that this just might be the worst day of his life. He'd thought things like that before, he wasn't exactly the most positive man on the face of the planet, but he thought this time he really meant it. It was a through and through, terrible, awful, 100% bad day.

On the chair next to Shinra's couch, Izaya sniffled, still trying to pretend she totally hadn't had a sobbing fit over him in the street less than an hour ago. Shizuo held in a growl. He would've been pissed enough if he had been shot by himself, but these "yellow scarves" had the audacity to try and assassinate him while his girlfriend and _baby_ were present? That was a new low of scum, and he was gonna rip their heads off.

"Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill," he chanted under his breath. No need for Ayako to witness any more violence today, even if she didn't understand it. He hated violence. "Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill."

Izaya reached out and laid a hand gingerly on his arm. His mouth snapped shut. It was a subtle communication, but one even he understood.

"Sooooo," she drawled, checking a watch she didn't have for emphasis, "It's getting pretty late. Should I just tell my parents another day, or...?"

He barked out a bitter laugh. "Are you gonna tell them I got shot?"

She shrugged. "You're the one who was worried about your image. I'll facetime them, tears in my eyes, and sing of your heroic virtues. 'Oto-san, I was so scared!', I'll say. 'This thug pulled a gun on me, but my big strong man took the bullet to protect me! What a fantastic baby daddy he is!'. Like that. You'll look great."

Shinra chuckled. "Sometimes with your flair for theatrics I really do feel like you've missed out on your true calling as a spin doctor or a reality tv presenter or something, Izaya."

She sighed, waving him off. "As much as I would love the power of celebrity, it's simply not my style. Besides, can you imagine Shizu-chan if I were being harassed by paparazzi? It could never work."

"You've got a point there," Shinra agreed, tying off the last bandage for his friend/regular patient. Shizuo could barely handle one reporter asking about his brother, much less if a dozen of them interrupted one of his dates with Izaya. He shuddered at the image of the carnage that would surely result from such an action.

"If you really think it'd help..." Shizuo trailed off, reluctant not for any doubt of his girlfriend's skills at manipulation, but for doubt that they would be used for the power of good. It was one of the many regular hazards he had come to accept as a part of dating the information broker, and while he trusted she would never cause harm to him or anyone he cared about _intentionally_ , he sometimes wondered that their definitions of "harm" may be wildly different.

"Of course it will!" She exclaimed sunnily, almost too cheerful at the prospect of not seeing her parents after 2 years. "Just keep your fingers crossed that they don't want to come over and personally thank you for saving the life of their daughter or some sentimental nonsense like that."

* * *

"Heiwajima-san, we would like to thank you personally for saving the life of our daughter," Shirou Orihara announced with a deep, traditional bow.

He looked, Shizuo thought, not much like Izaya at all. He had always _known_ that Izaya was technically mixed, being a quarter Russian on her mother's side, but while, sure, she tended towards the pale side, and her eye-color was a little unique, nothing about her _screamed_ 'not totally Japanese' until he really looked at her next to someone like Shirou. Her sisters, he thought absently, took much more from his side of the family than Izaya had, now that he thought about it.

Her mother, on the other hand, damn near could have been her twin, despite surely pushing 50 by now, at least. Maybe a couple of soft wrinkles traced underneath her eyes, but if she had said she was 30, Shizuo would have believed it. The only difference was her eyes, which were much softer, doey-er, than his girlfriend's. He wondered if that was a matter of genetics he didn't understand, or just a difference in their natures.

"You don't have to thank me, sir," he assured honestly. "I only did what any man should do."

"Yes daddy isn't he _darling_ ," Izaya swooned, playing the role of an over-infatuated young girl with a little too much enthusiasm. "My Shizu-chan would rather take a hundred bullets himself than see me take one, isn't that right Shizu-chan?"

"I guess," he answered, not really sure what she wanted from him at this point. She clung to his bicep with the dedication of drunk girl at the club after 10 shots, occasionally batting her eyelashes at him prettily with her very best 'adorable and innocent and definitely not working for the mob' expression. He was beginning to suspect she had decided to channel Mika Harima for the evening, and the thought made him shudder.

They had scarcely made it back to the apartment 10 minutes before the Oriharas had arrived, meaning Izaya had been forced to settle on removing his bow-tie and vest as good enough for pretending her boyfriend didn't wander around dressed as a bartender at all times. He had already changed into one of the spare shirts he kept at Shinra's, which probably said something about his lifestyle that he didn't care to observe right now, so for all outside appearances, it would be hard to tell that he had been shot at all.

"Ooooh," her mother practically squealed from her seat, clutching Ayako to her chest even tighter, "Aren't they adorable, dear?"

"Yes," her father agreed, taking a long drag of his expensive cigar, "It would seem she has fallen in love with a fine human after all."

Taking a bite of the Russia Sushi they had ordered last minute in lieu of their ruined groceries, Shizuo barely restrained the urge to roll his eyes. So _this_ was where Izaya had gotten her weird... human-complex.

"You will still be keeping an eye on Mairu and Kururi, won't you, Izaya? I know you must be busy with little Ayako here and all but you know how work gets for your father and I..."

"Of course, mom!" Izaya chirped with what Shizuo recognized as her political smile. Interesting.

"I really can't express what a relief it is to see you so capable now of loving humans, you know," her father expressed airily, "You know I always did _worry_ about that, especially after you stabbed that Kishitani boy in middle school..."

"You stabbed _Shinra?_ " He exclaimed. Sure she had stabbed _him_ at least once a month, but he'd thought that was just him! She said she only stabbed him!

"Oh _dAd_ ," she whined, not acknowledging her boyfriend's question at all, "You can't just go bringing up the time I stabbed a boy in front of my boyfriend!"

"Well it really was rather startling, dear," he mother scolded, "I even had to come back to Japan and deal with the school because of it, you're very lucky he decided not to press charges and I made it back to Russia in time for the board meeting."

"Yes, god forbid you miss out on something so important because of a little stabbing," she drawled with a false sweetness that, if directed at him, usually meant he should be bracing himself for revenge, but her mother seemed not to even notice.

"And you always came home with all those _bruises_ , it was remarkable the number of fights you managed to get into as a young lady."

Shizuo gulped, ignoring the twinge of guilt in his gut at knowing he was likely the one to cause said bruises. He reminded himself that she had _stabbed_ him, several times, for half a decade. He still didn't feel great about it.

"Frankly, when you said your boyfriend had been _shot_ we worried for a second that the perpetrator may have been you." Her father said with mild accusation in his tone, tapping out his cigar into one of the many ashtrays she had bought for Shizuo. Shizuo... well, Shizuo didn't like too many people to begin with, but he was starting to think his girlfriend's father was no exception, and he didn't appreciate him leveling accusations with her. Even if they were justified. "But-" his face flipped easily into the same 'fuck you' politician's smile that Izaya had worn just moments earlier. "It seems my concerns were unfounded. I'm glad you are living a peaceful life as I wished for you."

"Of course, father, I would hate to disappoint," she grinned back neutrally.

"Hm. Well, in any case we best be going. We both do have a flight to catch in the morning, don't we, dear?"

"Oh yes, and we should probably say hello to the girls before we leave, too," her mother said like it was an afterthought. She turned to Izaya, and fluidly returned their daughter with infinite grace but no sense of love or loss. "We'll see ourselves out. I hope you recover quickly, Shizuo!"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Yes I'll be sure to take the bestest care of him, don't you worry!" Izaya assured, visibly pepped up by her parents leaving. "Goodbye now! Say hello to the twins for me! Ta-ta!"

She continued spouting off pleasantries until the door was allowed to close with a soft click, and her face fell into a deep frown.

"I can't believe that bastard mentioned the Shinra incident."

"Isn't your dad a little..." he struggled to find a politically correct way to phrase his question.

"Deplorable? Judgemental? Arrogant? Possessing an ego the size of Japan?" Izaya filled in for him good-naturedly.

"All of the above."

"Indeed." She shifted Ayako around in her arms, the baby's eyes drooping promisingly. Maybe all the commotion of the day had finally gotten to her. "They're not bad people, not really. They just never were particularly attached to their children beyond their basic parental responsibilities. It suited me just fine."

Shizuo scoffed. "Maybe if your parents actually paid attention to you you wouldn't have had so much free time to mercilessly torment me all through high school."

" _Torment_?" She gasped, a smirk twinging at the corners of her mouth. "You wound me, Shizu-chan! It's not _my_ fault I fell for a barbarian with no regard for subtleties of my love language."

"Stabbings?"

"Yes, stabbings, an intensity reserved only for the deserving!"

"Lucky me," he agreed dryly. Still, she was right. After years of watching her operate, he had observed that Izaya had a very clear preference hierarchy of how to deal with conflict, at which running was the top, followed closely by tricking someone else into defending her, then slashing, but he had never seen her _stab_ anyone else. Some part of him sometimes wondered if she wasn't entirely kidding about it being in her own, sick, twisted, Izaya way something that she considered to be a special form of violence just for her and Shizuo. "So... _did_ you stab Shinra?"

She laughed, and for the first time since her parents had arrived, she graced him with one of the real, genuinely amused smirks that he had come to love. "Jealous, Shizu-chan~?" She sing-songed, but it was lacking in her usual energy. She sighed, allowing herself to relax into the side of his chest that didn't have a bullet hole in it. "I didn't, by the way. And I ruined the life of the bastard who did."

"Oh." How very... well, Izaya of her.

She chuckled, cupping his cheek with her free hand and peering up into his eyes through her long lashes, still half drenched in runny mascara from the combination of rain and violent sobbing. "You're still the only man I've ever stabbed, you twisted monstrosity."

He smiled back. In Izaya speak, it was as good as any 'I love you'. "Good."

At his brief answer she spiraled out into a fit of laughter, the kind only he seemed to cause, and he rethought his previous ruling on today. It was still, easily, the worst day of his life, but if it could end like this... well. He guessed it wasn't all bad after all.


	5. Chapter 5

"What if I had been a man?"

"Huh?" Shizuo looked up from his phone where he had been texting Celty to take a good look at his girlfriend of a little over a year now. She was sprawled vertically across the couch, with her legs draped over the back and her head hanging upside down, long hair cascading from her scalp and piling on the floor in what was sure to become a giant knot the more she fidgeted.

Sometimes, Shizuo got the feeling she still hadn't fully comprehended the fact that they were in a relationship. Like, he would ask her on a sushi date or if she wanted him to pick up groceries on the way home from work and she would hesitate for a second with a wide-eyed expression before she collected her thoughts enough to give an answer. Almost like she was surprised at every other reminder that they were actually together.

"What if I had been born a man," she elaborated, swinging her feet which hung loosely over the back of the couch. He had always known she was quick and nimble, but he hadn't realized until they were together just how truly hyper-active she was. He thought it was probably her body's way of dealing with her intelligence since her mind was always going a million miles a minute, but he was never really sure with Izaya. "Do you think we'd still hate each other?"

That was... a surprisingly good question. To be honest, he was pretty sure they would, but he wasn't gonna say that while the motives for her asking were still unknown. Izaya loved to lay verbal traps and then complain for days when he fell into them. She wasn't actually upset, she just didn't know how to function in life without something to bitch and tease him about. But that didn't mean he had to make it easy for her. "I don't know if I would really say I ever _hated_ you," he said instead.

Izaya only rolled her eyes. Bored with her current position, she gracelessly flopped the lower half of her body down to join her on the seat portion of the couch and rolled onto her stomach, peering out at him over the arm of the couch in a way that reminded him of a cat in a box. "Unless I was a man and we were also gay, of course," she elaborated, voiced now muffled by the fabric of the couch that she was pressed into.

"Where the hell is this coming from anyways?" With Izaya there was always a second meaning, and the rewards for finding it were often plentiful. The look of pride on the rare occasion that he successfully caught onto her always made his heart beat a little faster, even if she tried to hide it.

"Listen, Shizu-chan," she explained haughtily. She had finally grown bored with the couch entirely, and rose to stalk over to her beloved desk chair instead. He wondered if there was really that much people watching to be had from an apartment this high up, or if it just fed the god-complex she claimed she didn't have to look down on "her humans" from the heights. "I'm clearly a very attractive young woman, as you yourself would agree, correct?"

He raised a brow from his chair. That one was easy... too easy. He sighed. "You know I think you're beautiful, Izaya."

"Oh stop it you," she squee-ed, waving him off like he was just too much. He rolled his eyes at the theatrics. "You're making me blush!"

It was his turn to smirk now. "We both know you're not really that hard to make blush, Izaya."

On cue, her face lit up a light scarlet and she coughed once, like she was choking on the ashes of her own snuffed out dramatics. "Anyhow, Shizu-chan," she redirected with a little too much eagerness on her part, "The point is, if I hadn't been such a very enticing young lady, who couldn't help being attracted to such a very handsome monster I was cursed with the misfortune of crossing paths with, would we have ever changed? As it is, it took a car accident and my presumed nearness to death for you to spend more than 5 minutes in a room with me, or for me to have enough data to deduce that you may indeed be human-like enough to justify a relationship after all. What if the life we live now is some grand, cosmic mistake?"

She delivered her little speech cheerfully enough, but something about it had Shizuo raising and eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure you've admitted more than once that you've been trying to seduce me for years, so I'm not sure how much you expect me to believe that you weren't interested until you got hit by a car."

"Well, of course, I wanted to _fuck_ you for years, but it wasn't until then I decided I may as well keep you around for the company as well," she dismissed with a teasing coolness. She pouted. "But Shizu-chan never wanted to fuck me _or_ talk to me. How sad."

"Izaya..." he began hesitantly, "Are you... are you worried I'm only with you for sex?"

She parted her lips with the tiniest intake of air, so small he wasn't sure it could really be called a gasp, then closed them again and settled on a smirk. "Now what gave Shizu-chan such a ridiculous idea like that?" She deflected.

"You are!" He accused, not sure whether he was more amused or concerned at this point, "You really think I would be dating you for a _year_ after all the fights we've had just because of your pretty face?"

"It's a very pretty face, Shizu-chan," she muttered despondently, which for Izaya was all but an admission that he was correct.

He brushed his hand through his hair with another sigh. "Izaya."

"Yes."

"I'm gonna give you some true or false statements here, got it? Just true or false, I'm not looking for a whole commentary track here." He got to his feet, and lazily, hands in his pockets, he started to approach her.

"...Alright."

"You wake up at 5 in the morning, which means _I_ wake up at 5 every morning, to your scrawny elbows jamming into my side because you insist on sleeping next to the window, which means you have to crawl over me. Every. Morning."

"...True."

"And the only reason you're so scrawny in the first place is because you don't eat half the time, which means that if I want you not to keel over from starvation one day, I have to cook, since you're somehow also too health-conscious to eat fast food every day. But you're a picky eater, so half the time you won't eat what I make anyways."

"I have to watch my figure, Shizu-chan, no one wants to talk to an ugly informant." She pouted at the glare he shot her for breaking the commentary rule. "But true."

"You _still_ occasionally stab me when you wander into Ikebukuro, which you _still_ do, even though I have asked you a million times not to."

"True."

"And you pester me day in and day out with endless monologues on things and people I don't care about and questions with 10 different meanings I'm not allowed to know about."

"...True. From a certain perspective."

"Izaya," he placed his hands on her desk, leaning down now so that they were at eye-level. " _No one_ is _that_ pretty."

Slowly, he watched her apprehension fade away, and her lips quirked up at the corners in a small smile he was almost tempted to call sweet. "Oh. Well, that's good to know." She was now grinning from ear to ear, and Shizuo felt his entire body warm with affection that was starting to think really was love.

"Tch. For someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb sometimes."

"Ah, Shizu-chan, I can always count on you to ruin sweet moments," she complained, but her eyes were still bright. "But the sex is still good too, eh?"

He laughed. "Very."

She leaned forward now, close enough for her breath to rustle the hair by his ear. "Maybe you should remind me?"

He chuckled. "Now _that'_ s a question I can answer."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Izaya's someone who needs a lot of reassurance in a relationship. Like Shinra said, Izaya's heart is fragile and easy to break, and heartbreak is a major fear of his and probably a major driving factor behind his whole "I love all humans" thing. This would definitely have an impact if he were to seriously be in a relationship, but thanks to Shizuo's emotional openness, I think they would actually balance out very nicely, as he gives the desired assurances very freely.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to FF a long ass time ago, decided to post here as well for funzies. I don't write genderbend as much as I used to, but I've always found female characters so much more fun to write so after re-watching Durarara!! for the umpteenth time and being in quarantine I figured this would be a fun one to work on again. Hope everyone's staying healthy and safe out there!


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